The utility elevator opened and Frank Martino pushed out a heavy metal cart with one hand while pulling a second one behind him. He was the on-site handyman for Ashtenburrow Heights, a luxury apartment complex in the heart of the city, and his work day was almost over. His duties changed from one day to the next – fixing clogged sinks, repairing door frames, changing A/C and heating units – and he’d managed to keep the place running smoothly for three years now. Today, he’d helped clear out an abandoned apartment. Before the cleaning company went through, the landlord wanted him to toss or store as much as he could.

He maneuvered his heavy loads through the boiler room. The grinding of the cart’s cheap plastic wheels across the concreate mixed with the familiar groan of the furnaces and water pumps. From the heat of the boiler room, he exited to the covered garage and out towards the side alley between complexes. It was below freezing as night approached, and his heavy boots crunched on the fresh snow. Everyday this week, Frank had gotten up early to shovel and salt the apartment’s walkways. Soft flurries fell from the sky, and if the weather man was right (experience told Frank the man was right 50% of the time if it made his life easier, and 75% if it meant more work for him) there’s be another foot come morning.

Despite the cold, Frank sweated in his jeans and buttoned short-sleeved shirt as he emptied the contents of the carts into the large trash bin.

It felt shitty to throw other people’s stuff away. This young lady had moved in two months ago, paid no rent, and then vanished after Frank had posted an eviction notice on her door. Sometimes the landlord would try to stick items into storage and hold them for a tenant, but she’d left no contact information, and the phone number she’d given had been disconnect.

Frank hoped she was okay. Given the circumstances, she was probably alive and well (though in a city like this, things happened) but not having a place to stay and losing all your belongings was always rough. He’d been there himself when he was younger.

With a grunt, he heaved a shiny black garbage bag packed with the contents of her fridge into the garbage, followed by handful of glossy magazines and books. He liked to donated abandoned books to the library, but all she had were yellowed paperbacks with the covers torn off.

The landlord had already swept through and grabbed anything of value. Frank had helped her load a TV, furniture, and dishes into her pick-up earlier. Legally, abandoned items could be pawned off to help recoup expenses. Frank was left to discard all the stuff the landlord didn’t want: clothing, toiletries, bed sheets, shower curtains, throw rugs, a mismatched set of silverware, open medicine bottles.

If it had been warmer, there might be a few bums hanging around the alley who’d rifle through his carts for anything good. That didn’t bother Frank, but it made his boss grumpy. Most tenants didn’t know this bin existed though, so as long no one complained and nothing was vandalized, Frank figured it didn’t hurt anyone to let them grab something.

As he hefted a shoebox into the trash, it twisted in the air. The lid slipped off and half the contents ended in the bin while the other half clattered over the frozen ground. With a sigh, Frank leaned down and scooped up the detritus.

One item caught his eye. It was a necklace, a silver medallion with some butterfly-winged fairy and symbols scrolling around the edges, hung on a leather band. Holding it up in the fading light, he inspected the piece.

At first, he’d thought it was cheap costume jewelry made out of pewter or the like – the sort of thing you pick up for $10 at the mall – but it looked to be real silver, and the symbols and the tiny figure were formed with skill. Above her head, the fairy held a small stone, not plastic as he’d first assumed, but a tiny emerald.

Frank perked up at the find. His wife wouldn’t care for it, Clara preferred simple and elegant pieces, but his daughter might want it. She was thirteen and loved all that fantasy shit: fairies, elves, goblins, dragons, and princesses. Lilly had even tried to learn that elf language after finishing Lord of the Rings; she’d moved on after a month, but sometimes still greeted him with a ‘Gi suilon!’

With a pleased grin, he tucked the treasure into his front pocket and finished his work.

As Frank liked to say, the work was a pain, but he had the best commute in the city. After latching the boiler room exit and stowing away his carts, Frank headed back to the elevator and to his home on the second floor. Handymen didn’t make much, but his rent was discounted, meaning that Clara could work nearby and Lily went to a nice school.

Most of the other tenants were lawyers, doctors, and businessmen – housing was expensive – but other than a handful of assholes, none of his neighbors looked down on him. And Frank had learned there were assholes no matter where you went, so he just ignored any disdainful glances from young investors in their three-piece suits.

Opening the door, he was greeted with the scent of cooking chicken and rosemary.

“Take off your boots before you come in,” Clara called. He’d forgotten once and trailed oil onto the carpet, and now she reminded him every time he walked through the door. Dutifully, he unlaced them and set them in the closet.

Lily sat at the living room table, neon green headphones covering her ears as she stared at textbook. Beside it on the polish wood was a three-ring binder with notes and drawings haphazardly scrawled over the paper. She tapped a pen against the table as though in thought.

Frank drifted into his daughter’s field of view.

“Hey, sweetie,” he said.

She made a grunting noise in acknowledgment.

“Good day at school?”

“S’okay.”

“I’m going to make some tea. Want some? Or hot coco?”

“Uhhhhh- sure.”

Gone were the days where Lily would rush to great her father and demand a hug when he walked through the door. Increasingly, she spent her time in her room or out with her friends. When with Clara and he, Lily seemed bored or sullen. She was a good kid – polite and got good grades – but Frank missed the happy little girl she used to be.

He put water on the stove and reconsidered the gift in his pocket. It was cute, but she didn’t seem to like cute things as much. Frank couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her play with the fairy princess dolls he’d gotten her, and those used to be her favorite. Though he’d been sure Lily would want the necklace when he’d picked it up, now that he thought about it, she probably wouldn’t have picked something like it out on her own.

Oh well, it’s not like he’d paid for it or anything.

At dinner, the three settled around their small table. Clara insisted on it. Frank would be fine eating in front of the TV while watching a movie – he considered that bonding time, too – but she’d read that families that ate dinner together were healthier and more emotionally stable. That meant that if she cooked, they sat at the table and ate it.

Tonight was baked rosemary chicken thighs, roasted red potatoes, and green beans. Frank put some raw radishes, carrots, and celery on a side dish. He’d always been hefty, in high school he’d been an offensive lineman, but lately he’d been filling out with more flab than muscle. He figured switching veggies for his usual chips and salsa might help with the gut.

“Sweetie, I got you something today,” Frank said, while pulling the necklace from his pocket. After making tea, he’d given it a quick clean and polish.

Lily’s eyebrows rose in interest as he dangled it in the air. She cupped the talisman to examine it. As she wrapped her thin fingers around the leather band, the emerald flickered, far brighter than Frank would have expected from reflecting the living room lamp.

“That’s nice, honey,” Clara said. “Where did you get it?”

“That lady in 14-G… Um, Susan?” He handed over the necklace to his daughter.

“If you mean the woman who disappeared after you served her notice, that was Katrina,” corrected Clara. “Susan is the older woman. The one with three cats.”

Frank remembered now. He’d helped her haul in groceries after her surgery. Yeah, Katrina was the girl who’d left.

“Cool. Thanks, dad,” Lily said as she set the necklace beside her plate, and went back to eating. There wasn’t much in the way of enthusiasm, and he couldn’t tell if she genuinely liked it or was being polite.

They finished dinner only talking lightly. Clara’s boss had come back from a vacation in the Caribbean with a sunburn. Lily gave short answers to any question posed to her – her day was okay, her classes were fine, her friends were all right, and would it be okay if she went to the movies this Friday? Jacoline and her parents were going, and Lily would need money for a ticket and maybe food.

Afterward, Frank settled down in front of the computer to play BuildCraft. One of his buddies had set up a server and was crafting a massive automated house. Frank remained in his hovel surrounded by high walls to keep out the zombies, and had spent the last few nights crafting barrels of TNT. Tonight, he scouted around the periphery, trying to find out how to make it past the mine field and wall of flowing lava his friend had created.

Frank, Jennifer, and Brian had all made efforts to break in, but had died previously. Steven was used to his friends’ antics, and had become increasingly paranoid and vicious in his security measures. This didn’t bother the other three. It made it all the more satisfying when whatever obscene monument Steve built this time exploded.

Clara and Lily headed out, and he noticed that Lily had slipped the necklace on.

“You liked it,” he said, tugging off his headphone.

“Yeah – see you later, dad.” Lilly gave him a kiss on the cheek and then mock-frowned, rubbing the stubble of his five o’clock shadow.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully. After the girls came back from dance class, Frank watched some TV while Clara read a mystery novel. While Frank flipped through the channels, a thump came from the other room, as though something had hit the floor.

“That’s Lily’s room,” Clara said, her mom sense razor sharp. She stood and headed to the closed bedroom door, rapping on the wood. Frank paused, his head cocked to the side as he half-listened to the TV and half to Clara.

Clara knocked again, calling Lily’s name, and when she received no answer, opened the door.

“Frank!” she called. He was on his feet in a flash.

In two strides, he’d reached the bedroom, and the sight that greeted him stopped his heart. Lily was sprawled unconscious on the floor. And she had become partially transparent. Frank blinked once or twice in confusion as Clara rushed to their daughter’s side.

As they watched, Lily’s body dissipated into mist.

They both reached out, their hands clawing through her vanishing form. Frank felt a shock jolt his entire body, and then the room spun. He found himself hovering in the air; below him, all three of their bodies slumped on the carpet.

He tried to talk, to shout, but found no sound came from him. Then he was sucked away. Lights flashed by his vision as his spirit was pulled through space, away from earth and his own solar system, then away from his own galaxy.

For one startled moment, he saw a multitude of universes and worlds spread before him. The sight was both impossible and utterly undeniable. Then he plunged, again pulled by an invisible force. His perception zoomed in crazily as he rushed downwards to another solar system – planet – land mass – region – city – building – and crashed through a roof into a glowing red ritual circle.

He found himself lying on cold wooden floorboards, panting. His naked body was covered in a wet, slimy liquid as though he were a newborn who’d slipped out of the womb.

Clara and Lily were there, and around them stood about half a dozen men and women in dark, bloody red robes. Frank spotted candles, an older man grasping a huge leather-bound book, and shadowy figures dancing through the air. The group was chanting, but stopped as the leader raised one withered hand.

“It is finished,” he said, grandly. “The eternal bride has returned to us.”